Germany, you ARE the father
by Athena Reese
Summary: So... where do baby nations come from? After one of England's magical mishaps, Italy turns into a girl and is pregnant with Germany's baby. Fem!ItalyxGermany GerIta and ItaGer, Rated M for mpreg (kinda?), lemons/smut/yaoi AND hetero smut, starts of with a big-ol' lemon for ya!


I am so excited I finished this that I'm publishing this now! Which is probably not a good idea considering I haven't proofread the last part T.T sorry if the characters fal apart at the end. I've had this idea for a while and I'm finally done with the PROLOGUE (who knows how long I've been working on it). Not sure how often I'll be updating but stay tuned and thanks for reading! ^.^

One thing Germany doesn't like to admit: he did not assume the "dominate" role in their first time.

"Germany hugs!"

Another typical Friday afternoon: Italy had come over uninvited to make dinner for Germany, who had already eaten and could be found reading a book in his study. Germany was caught off guard by the shorter nation wrapping his small arms around him and crawling into his lap placing two kisses on each of his cheeks. Germany's blush went unnoticed by Italy as he started to ramble on about a new pasta recipe or something. Germany was lost in his own thoughts, not paying attention to the trivial, one-sided conversation.

"Why does he do this?" he thought to himself. "The other nations aren't so… touchy. So why is Italy? I've read that this is the way lovers act together… but is that what I want…?"

It wasn't the first time Germany thought like this. He questioned his feelings for Italy ever since the whole "San Valentino" incident. Right as he had gotten comfortable with the thought of being with Italy, being MORE than friends, he was rejected. "I just don't know what he wants anymore!"

"Italy, get up." Germany said in, what Italy called his "training" voice. He obliged giving Germany a confused look. He stood, removing his reading glasses and walking to the kitchen pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, trying to map out exactly what he wanted to say while Italy followed him. "Communication is important in any relationship," he reminded himself, quoting from one of the many books he read to try to understand the other nation.

"Look Italy…" he started, planning his words carefully. "I don't think we should be doing all the touching, ja?" Germany took a deep breath straightening his tie trying to hide the blush forming on his cheeks.

"Why?" Italy asked confused.

… Germany had hit a roadblock. That was a good question. Of course he couldn't tell Italy it was because he was receiving mixed signals. He couldn't say it was because it would sometimes give him uncomfortable erections with just a simple hug. He couldn't say it was because he was in love with Italy.

"It's just… very unprofessional."

"But we're friends Germany!"

"That is not how friends treat each other!"

"But- But Germany!"

"It's _strange_ Italy!" Germany had started raising his voice. How was he supposed to explain this?

Italy threw himself at the larger nation wrapping his arms around him wailing. "But- But we're BFFs! We pinky swore! Does Germany not like me anymore?!"

"For the last time get off of me!" The Germany yelled prying the shorter nation off of him accidentally throwing him against the floor. "It's like this all the time! You need to treat me like a commanding officer, not the girls you flirt with in town!"

Italy stared up at the red face country confused. Tears were forming at the edges of his eyes but refused to fall down his cheeks. While Italy had put up with his screaming before, Germany had never sounded like this. For once Italy could sense the mood. This wasn't about skipping practice and demanding affection when the larger country walked through the door. Germany was angry on a personal level. His voice was frustrated, not angry, and filled with desperation and sadness. 

Germany stopped his angry rambling. He looked down at the small, pathetic nation, scared on the floor. A silence filled the room with an anticipation of what would be said next. Germany took a deep breath. "You run when I chase you, and yet you chase after me when I run!" he said in a voice Italy had never heard from him before. It was small and sad and Italy couldn't help but feel a touch of guilt. "Why do you do that? It doesn't make sense!"

Italy's eyes widened and the tears disappeared from his eyes. "Umm… I don't know…" he said in a small voice. He had heard this before… only… only it wasn't from Germany…

Italy pulled himself to his feet and a little too close for Germany's liking. He could feel the heat of the smaller man's breath on his body. Germany couldn't remember a time they were this close and yet, not touching. Italy's eyes were tracing him, up and down as if he were looking at a piece of artwork from his house. There was a determined look on his face, similar to when he surrendered in WWI. The whole thing made Germany uncomfortable but he didn't protest.

Italy's eyes returned to Germany's, and stayed there for a while. Germany hadn't realized how much time had passed. It was getting late and the sun would be setting soon.

"Germany have you ever been in love?"

Italy smiled at the shock reaction on Germany's face.

"I was in love once…" he said looking away from Germany. His voice was soft, not loud and crackly like he usually spoke. "It was another boy though; I think I told you that…"

A thick silence fell over the room.

Gently, Italy placed his hands on Germany's warm cheeks. He was soft, and careful; ironically treating the larger nation like a sheet of glass. He pulled Germany closer, placing his lips on his, softly, but determined to make it last.

Germany wasn't stupid; he knew that this wasn't like other kisses Italy gave him. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. He could practically feel hormones running throughout him. This was what Germany had dreamed of, and yet, he pulled back first, a fierce blush covering his cheeks.

"I- I'm sorry German-"

"No!" The taller man interrupted. Italy's expression change from sad to confused. "It… it was… nice…" his arms wrapped around the shorter nation kissing him again.

Germany's thoughts fled from his body, just focusing on this moment, here in front of him. For this moment he didn't have anxiety or any thoughts that this was wrong. He tried to kiss back with the same gentleness Italy displayed, still trying to get used to the feeling… it was… tingly… and Germany wanted _more._

Germany found an opening to Italy's mouth. Mercilessly he shoved forward receiving a sound of discomfort from Italy. _Damn._

Italy pulled away, breathing heavily, and stared into the deep blue of Germany's eyes. Without saying a word, he gently took the other man's hand and led him through the kitchen and upstairs. Germany was obedient wondering were they could possibly be going… although he _did_ have an idea.

Italy led him to the bed both men slept in most nights. Though tonight Italy planned on doing more here than sleeping. He sat down on the edge of the bed and the blond mechanically followed his actions. Italy leaned in again, meeting Germany's lips.

Germany read somewhere that you're supposed to kiss the same way the other person does? He didn't know what the hell he was doing. It hadn't occurred until now that he hadn't ever really kissed anyone. At least not like _this_.

Then the soft warmth left his mouth. "Germany… don't be so nervous," Italy told him in a low voice, placing kisses on other parts of his face and neck before returning to his mouth.

Germany relaxed this time. His eyes shut, and he let Italy guide him and make the next move. It took a while but the other nation's tongue found its way into Germany's mouth. Italy successfully dominated the bigger, more powerful nation. He gave up being in charge for once and forgot about organization while Italy has his way. Germany was guided to lie down on the bed and let Italy over power him. Germany's breath hitched as warmth covered the side of his neck. Italy started working off the stupid sweater vest Germany decided to wear. It was barely fall, why did he have to wear so many layers? One of his hands found their way to the red head of hair, running through Italian locks as he was marked. _Mmmm_…

Wait was that him? Did Germany just… moan? Germany was caught off guard and suddenly had a moment of panic. Italy was causing him to feel this way. _Italy!_ His partner, his friend, his ally… none of which were supposed to arouse him! This would change everything about their relationship, even if they DIDN'T keep going. Italy pulled away, exposing Germany's neck to the cold and captured his lips again.

Then Germany melted into the tranquil mindset he was in before. He remembered that this was _Italy_… and this was actually _happening_ and Germany felt… excited.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed but by the time Italy pulled away they were both panting for air and Germany was feeling a little "larger" in his pants. "Is this Ok?" Italy panted on top of the larger nation.

"Ja, _DasIstGut_!" Germany managed to sputter out before his lips were captured again.

"Mmmm… where… lube…" Italy managed to mumble.

Damn.

"Check Prussia's room!" Germany blurted, only half aware of what he was saying. "Or the bathroom… or use lotion…"

"Ve," Italy giggled a little at Germany's desperation. "Don't go any where Germany~" and before he could ask were he would possibly go to, Italy was gone, and Germany was alone.

…

After Germany took possibly one of the most awkward trips to the bathroom ever and had some time to contemplate everything that was about to happen, Italy retuned to the bedroom to find Germany sprawled out on the bed, eyes closed, and breathing deeply. At first he was afraid Germany had fallen asleep, or was faking it, or worst of all: he had changed his mind, but his blue eyes opened slowly at the sound of Italy walking towards the bed. It creaked when the smaller nation added his weight and straddled Germany.

"Big brother France taught me well," he smiled proudly displaying a plastic bottle.

Germany pulled him back down for a kiss and fumbled ungracefully to get the other's shirt off. He didn't want to think about France… or the world meeting tomorrow morning… or the sweater vest and T-shirt that had been carelessly tossed on the floor. All that mattered right now was "_Feliciano_," he muttered under his breath as the other man loosened the buttons of his dress shirt to reveal…

… a wife beater.

Italy let out a breath of aggravation and mercilessly tugged it off, finally revealing the German's torso. A second was set aside just for the smaller nation to ogle his toned chest before he let a finger trail the indents of his body. Germany couldn't help but adore how Italy looked from his angle. He couldn't recall a time when the nation looked so _overpowering_; even though Germany knew he could push him off and pin him at any time. But he didn't. He trusted Feliciano and… actually kind of _enjoyed_ letting him take control… not that he would ever admit that of course.

Fingers were replaced with Italy's lips as he leaned in slowly to _kiss_ and _taste_ his skin before sneaking a finger to the German's pants and _oh so slowly_ pulling them down, flashing a smile when seeing the underpants he had bought for Germany last Christmas. Germany felt his face heat up with embarrassment at the exposure to his long-time ally. The tent he was pitching was now _clearly_ visible to the other man and he found himself grabbing fistfuls of sheets and resisting the instinct to kick Italy off the bed. He came back up and placed kisses on Germany's beat-red face as he shimmed out of his own pants and boxers leaving himself completely exposed to the other nation before pealing off the German's boxers.

Italy was a little disappointed to look down at the German's face and see his eyed squeezed shut in a grimacing expression. He let his attention drift back down to the other's vital regions.

It was… impressive…

Though in all honesty, he thought Germany would be a lot bigger than him.

And uncircumcised.

He wrapped his hand around the other's length and was surprised to hear the German moan again with such simple contact. He experimented, simply running his had up and down Germany slowly as he would to himself. The grimace faded but Germany's eyes were still shut. Little did the Italian know, he was driving the other crazy with his delicate, feathery touches.

"Germany," Italy spoke softly. "Open your eyes"

He obliged and let his eyelids flutter open revealing the smiling Italian face. Germany pulled him in for a kiss. It was slow and gentle but the passion was still there. Germany's hands ran through the red-auburn hair releasing a pent up moan of desperation from Feliciano. It was hot and the sun had nearly gone down leaving the two lovers in the glow of dusk.

Germany felt something cold and wet at his entrance. Before he even had time to think, Feliciano's lubed finger entered him. His eyes screwed shut again and oh god he _whimpered_ at the pain and alien feeling of being invaded by a foreign object.

"Relax Germany, shh," Feliciano whispered in his ear. "You're so tight, you need to relax." And the finger started to move; wiggling up and down to reshape his body. And Feliciano was there to comfort the weak sounds coming out of the German. Soon it started to feel… warm… comforting was a good word. Feliciano moved in and out, slowly letting Germany get used to the feeling, and the more Germany relaxed, the less it stung and the more pleasure he felt.

A second finger was added and instead of a whimper, a moan escaped Germany's mouth. His eyes fluttered open to see Italy working in concentration. His fingers explored, they moved to stretch his walls making Germany squirm and underneath him. Germany lost all sense of dignity and embarrassment, he was too lost in the pleasure Italy was causing him.

Another finger entered and the pain didn't linger for too long, Germany almost liked it. Italy kept hitting something inside him. There was something building up. His rational thought was gone, and his breathing was irregular. His eyes squeezed shut and toes curled. He couldn't stop, he just couldn't. Strangled gasps and chokes filled the room. It was so close… so close…

And Germany came: hard, desperately gasping for breath as his hips bucked and back arched involuntarily. He opened his eyes but the world faded to black as energy pulsed through him and slowly faded away. His head fell to the pillow as it was all over and he opened his eyes to see nothing but the white ceiling. There was a disappointed moan when Italy removed his fingers, leaving Germany empty. He looked down at the other nation, who looked a little stunned that he was able to make the large, powerful country orgasm without really laying a hand on his cock. There were streaks of sticky fluid clinging to the country's chest. Italy's arousal was obvious, not only by the look in his eye, but also the raging hard-on in his vital regions.

Germany's head dropped to the pillow again. He closed his eyes, somewhat ashamed as he let his breathing return to normal. Italy crawled back over him, shifting the bed as he moved, and devoured Germany's lips when he reached him.

"God Germany you're so sexy," he breathed out between kisses.

"I'm sorry-"

"Shut up," and with that he stole another heated kiss from the blond leaving him no time to protest.

Italy pulled away and stared into the other's eyes. Germany became enchanted by his appearance. Red hair stuck to parts of his forehead. His breath was heavy and audible, which matched the intense rising and falling of his chest. Without any real motivation (besides the fact that he wanted to) Germany's hands moved to Feliciano's chest. His skin was soft, a little damp from a coat of sweat that coated him from pure arousal. Germany's hands moved with in inhales and exhales of the other country. He could feel the other's heart beating, it was steady, not nearly as fast as his own, but it was intense.

"I want you Germany," Italy's voice drew his attention back to the other's face. There was something different. His voice was deeper, more seductive, and it was _not_ helping the new problem occurring in Germany's pants. Guiding his cheeks he pulled Feliciano in for another kiss. Italy's fingers brushed against his sides, chest, neck, upper thighs: anything he could reach. It sent tickling sensations over the German's body until he was hard again and shaking with anticipation.

"_Machen wir's in Liebe_," Germany sputtered out unaware of what was coming out of his mouth. "Teach me- teach me how to make love!"

Italy pushed four fingers into his entrance again, forcing an unsuspected groan. "It'll hurt," he warned as he used his other hand to slick his erecting with lube.

A mumbled "_bitte_" came out of his mouth before Italy removed his fingers. Germany's eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Italy had spread his legs leaving him completely exposed to him. He could feel the head at the tip of his entrance, almost teasing him. Gently, Italy guided himself in and the German took it, accepting Italy's member deeper into him. It reshaped his body, just for Feliciano. His head was spinning, it didn't hurt it just felt… _full_.

Italy was inside him. Their bodies flush against each-other. The thought aroused Germany. The two countries could not possibly be any closer than they were at his second. It was as if they had become one. It felt _right_. Germany let go of a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Slowly his eyes opened to see Feliciano's smiling face.

"_Ti amo, Ludwig"_

Germany wasn't even sure if he had heard it. Before he had time to process, Italy's hips had pulled out and pushed back in with more force than before. Germany moaned at the sensation. It hurt, but not in a way that was all bad. It took a few more deep, slow thrusts for him to ask Italy to stop. His face had contorted into a grimace and his eyes were sealed shut yet again.

"_Mi dispiace_ _mi tesoro. Ti amo," _It was hard to focus on the words Italy was saying through the deep breathing and sharp stinging sensation Ludwig was feeling, but somehow the sweet nothings whispered in his ear gave some encouragement. "We have all night _mi tesoro_," Italy's fingers ran through his blond hair as he placed kisses over the German's face melting the tension felt throughout his body. "Relax _amore._ I love you so much Ludwig, _ti amo!_"

With that Ludwig opened his eyes "_Ich liebe dich_ Feliciano," and Feliciano's lips returned to their rightful place: on Ludwig's.

Feliciano's hips moved in quick, shallow strokes. He took it as a good sign when Ludwig's eyes didn't screw shut. Gradually, he thrust in deeper and deeper receiving moans and pants from the larger country under him. Finally he was pulling practically all the way out and rutting all the way back in. Italy was sure that at this pace he wouldn't be able to last much longer. Germany _squealed _(a noise Italy didn't know the other country could make) and he couldn't help but smile when he assumed he hit the other's prostate.

"Italy please!"

"Please what?" Italy asked innocently.

"Touch me Feliciano! _Bitte!_"

Italy smirked at the German's dirty mouth and ran his hand up and down his shaft at an _agonizingly slow_ pace, and yet Ludwig's back arched into the touch. Breaths were coming short and uneven from both nations and Feliciano's hips were speeding uncontrollably. "Ludwig," he panted, speeding the pace on the other's member. "You're so beautiful"

"Feliciano please," he gasped and chocked for air. "Right there! _Bitte nicht aufhoren! Bitte!_

Ludwig tensed, everything was tight. He couldn't move and Feliciano kept _slamming_ into him, _touching_ him in the right spots, _hitting_ him in the right places. Germany came with a scream like moan. His body pulsed and spasmed as a cool relief washed over him and his seed shot out. All he saw was the black of his eye lids as pulses of energy ran through his body repeatedly. His eyes shot open again to see Italy, moaning, and still pushing into him. Germany's body had grown limp, he couldn't even bother to shut his mouth letting a small stream of drool flow down his cheek as Italy dominated him. He kept going, faster and faster into his sensitive hole. It was almost tranquilizing. Germany continued to moan noisily and bath in the afterglow of his orgasm. Although it hurt, he would've stayed there forever until Italy finished, but the sight of Ludwig being reduced to a pile of moaning pleasure wouldn't let him last much longer. He wasn't sure how much time had passed, and frankly he didn't care. Feliciano came, buried deep inside him, silently fallowed by soft moans escaping his lips. It was a strange sensation to be filled with another man's semen... but oddly enough Germany wasn't complaining.

The Italian collapsed onto Ludwig in his own post-orgasm bliss, panting until all of his breath returned.

"I didn't mean," he finally panted out. "To cum inside you. I'm sorry."

Ludwig cracked a smile and wrapped his arms around the smaller man. "Ich liebe dich," he said softly as he rolled over, bringing Italy to his side with him in a tangled mess of limbs.

"Ti amo," and with a peck on the lips, Italy was already asleep.

And Ludwig let a single tear fall down his cheek. He was feeling a lot of things: confusion, fear, self-loathing, but also love and comfort. Most of all: at this moment, he felt happy, and he fell asleep with Italy in his arms.

_DasIstGut _– that is good

_Machen wir's in Liebe_ – let's make love

_Bitte – _Please

_Ti amo, Ludwig – _I love you Ludwig

_Mi dispiace_ _mi tesoro_ – I'm sorry my treasure

_Amore _– love

_Ich liebe dich – _I love you

_Bitte nicht aufhoren – _Please don't stop (I think…)


End file.
